A brutal silence strings though the car. And then I say softly, “Are you scared of him?”
“I can’t stand to look at his face.”
“What did he personally do to you?” I ask.
“I hated him because my mother did,” Ryke says briefly, but I can tell his mind is reeling, so I’m not surprised when he divulges more. “…when I was older, I tried to look at him differently, but she painted a portrait of a monster. So when I stare at his face, that’s all I fucking see.”
His words sink in, and I don’t have anything to say. I can’t change the way he pictures Jonathan Hale. That damage is too deep-seated.
“I tried to forget about him,” Ryke says, staring out the window. “I tried to act like I just didn’t have a dad. And then…” He shakes his head.
“What?” I prod.
“…and then I met you. And all that hate just came back ten times stronger than before.”
I hesitate before I ask. I fear his answer. “Why?” This is where he’ll say I’m just like my father. I’m the monster of the story. The thing to be hated.
“You defend him,” Ryke tells me. “He says some pretty fucking horrible things right to your face, and you just stand there and take it or you walk away. And then the next day, you’ll talk about Jonathan like he’s a fucking savior.” I can’t feel that great burst of relief when he doesn’t compare me to him. I just feel like shit.
I grit my teeth. “What am I supposed to do? Punch him? I wasn’t into the wholelet me beat the hell out of my fathertragedy growing up. Sorry.”
“You’re right,” Ryke says, surprising me. “You were stuck in that house, with that fucking asshole. But right now, you have the option to leave him. And you’re going back.”
“He’s not all bad.”
“And there you go, sticking up for him again.”
“He’smyfather.”
“He’sourfather,” Ryke retorts.
I hit the wheel with my hand, nervous and pissed and so fueled right now. “I can’t cut him out of my life!” Not because of the money. Not because of the trust fund or the information I need from him. I can’t leave Jonathan Hale because he’s my family. He’s my dad, and before Ryke and Lily, he’s all I fucking had.
“Pull over for a second.”
“I’m not turning around.”
“Just pull over.”
I drive into a gas station and park the car by the pump. I face Ryke, and my chest rises at the empathy in his eyes. He’s about to drop a bomb on me, but he knows I can take it.
“No one is going to tell you this,” Ryke says. “Everyone says it behind your back, but you’re going to hear it from me, right now.”
I stare at him for a long moment, already hearing his words before he says them. I think I know. I’ve always known.
“Our dad abuses you,” Ryke says, his eyes reddening. “He’s verbally abusive, and he’s fucked with your head.”
I let this sink in, but I’m so numb to the answer. I just nod. “Yeah, I know.”
Ryke nods a few times too, watching me, trying to gauge my mental state. And maybe he’s reliving the fact that he was the older brother, the one who was handed the better deal of two really shitty ones, not having to be raised by him, not having to endure the onslaught offucking grow up! I didn’t raise you to be such an idiot! Why are you crying? Stop. Fucking. Crying.
“Don’t guilt yourself over this,” I tell Ryke. I feel nothing. I should be red in the eyes like him, but I just can’t be. “I know what I’m doing.”
“Yeah,” Ryke says, nodding again, but he’s more upset than before. “The fact that you believe you can have a real relationship with him fucking terrifies me, Lo. That’s what kills me. And that’s why I don’t want to go there and watch him try to emotionally manipulate you.”
I break his gaze and stare at the wheel. “I’m not asking you to come with me.” My voice is edged but considerably low. “I can drop you off at your house.”
We sit in uncomfortable silence again. For maybe five minutes, both of us just thinking.
